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Cool Summer Breeze

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The start of something amazing. What is love, how lucky can one be to obtain it, no matter how brief it will be. Really just a teaser for a short novel I am working on.

Megan Martin
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

We started off as friends. His voice and my laughter the soundtrack of our days together. It started off with a cool summer breeze, pulling me to him. My arms outstretched only in my mind, but firmly to my sides in reality. I always started out stiff, my muscles tense and frozen in place. My heart unbeating and pulled up into the uppermost portion of my chest. But then the sound of his smile would break the tension slowly rising in me to new unfathomable heights.

My thoughts did not start out as friends. The cool breeze was him, his musical lips the hot sun beating down on my neck. He started off silent, until I built him up, slowly, gradually. His first words friendly, my first thoughts more than friendly.

The dreams started out slowly, he'd laugh at something I’d say, the sound drowning out all other sounds. Then the beating of my heart became too much and I would look at him, watching his lips move yet being unable to comprehend any words. I became obsessed with the movements of his lips, the shape of his smile, the way he would look to the side when he would notice my gaze, I never noticed I noticed that until now. He started off straight in my mind, but sometimes the movement of his hands when he spoke and his dismissiveness towards women created a fantasy world for me. I started off thinking I could never have him, his voice too golden, my movements too flawed.

I started off loving him, well maybe lust is a better word. But later it turned into love; the pounding of my heart and the butterfly's in my abdomen told me it was love. I started out blushing, my cheeks red, my face hot. He always made my body rise in temperature, I felt like I was in heaven and hell all at the same time.

That’s how it started.

Maybe I was naive then, maybe I was too cynical. Sexuality is a complex matter. Not everyone shows the same signs, can you even say that there are signs? Sexuality is a spectrum of sorts with a perpendicular line depicting intensity. Neither of us were very intense, but later it was clear where we both stood on that line. But it wasn't clear before.

I remember one time when I was younger I wanted to get an ear piercing and my sister called me a fagot, apparently she had just learned the word from TV. It makes me laugh now thinking about how right a seven year old girl was. I didn't even know it then, but then again I didn't even know what straight was, I just liked the sparkle of my mom's new earrings that my father had given her for her birthday.

Those stereotypes are misleading. I never hosted a tea party, I liked football, and my favorite color has always been blue. But I have never been attracted to the form of a woman, though I can still admit it's beauty. I love the rough edges of a man, the feel of his large calloused hands gliding over my skin, though at the time I had never felt it, but somehow my mind knew exactly how it felt and knew that I liked it.

I don't know when I figured it out, maybe I realized so young, maybe I always knew. But I always accepted it, maybe I never advertised it, shouted the tune of my heart from the rooftops, but I have never felt shame. Because this is who I am, I grew up with the advantages of a liberal household and I understood that this is me and I like me. At least in this aspect I like me.

He liked me too. He went to the same university as me, our ages only separated a bit, meaning he could drink and I couldn't, but I never wanted to anyways. He was slightly taller than me, his voice just the tinniest bit deeper. He was very handsome, I was not. I thought he was straight, I was not. Later I found out he was confused at this point in time, not very much so but just enough to never make a move, at least this is what I believed until recently.

We had a few classes together, nothing special, just general ed. I would sit next to him, tell him hello everyday until he passed me a note in class and we exchanged numbers. It started out as friendship. Sharing notes from a crazy fast teacher in a dimly lit college coffee shop. We would stay later than intended and I would walk with him to his dorm, saying it was on the way to the car, but really it was the opposite side of campus and it was the lit up streetlamps that drove me again and again to his door for safety. I would never tell him I worried about him, men have a way of getting very defensive at such statements.

He was a little nerdy and I liked that about him. I knew by the bags under his eyes and the A papers that he stayed up late every night studying. This made me devalue our joint study sessions, but I also used it as an excuse to get closer to him. I never thought I could be with him, but just being near made me happy.

Those late night coffee shops later turned into late night study sessions on his dorm room floor as midterms got closer. When he got an A he thanked me profusely but I maintained I did very little to really help him, I just gave him company and if anything I slowed him down. He replied that that couldn't be further from the truth. His intensity at the statement confused me and I didn't understand what he meant.

After midterms we laid back for a little while but soon the heat turned up and coffee streamed like the Nile at night. The stars did little to comfort us as our eyes grew tired and our brains grew full. Knowledge can be hell to obtain but damn is it worth it, I have many times said the same thing about him. I don't know when we started studying on his bed, late at night, huddled close together for both warmth and the light of the insignificant desk lamp. I don't know when I started to fall asleep on the bed. I don't remember when he stopped waking me up when he noticed. I can't recall when he would no longer let me have the bed to myself and sleep on the floor.

When did he become comfortable enough with me to fall asleep beside me on that small bed? I would wake up and the textbook would still be laid over his lap. His hair would be slightly tussled, his glasses hung limply down his straight nose. His mouth was always slightly agape and every once in a blue moon he would snore just slightly. I don't remember when I stopped leaving the room before he had a chance of waking up. But I remember once I tried to remove myself from him and in his sleep he clasped tightly to my shirt. I decided it was too early anyways and fell back against him. I discovered two thing that day; he's very strong even when sleeping and his morning alarm was the new Periodic Table song. Somehow the song suited him. I still don't know exactly why, but it simply did.

The sound of his voice that morning was hoarse and raspy. I guessed cotton mouth from sleeping with his mouth wide open. I ran out of the room saying something about a glass of water. At the time I thought it was a convincing excuse, but my avoidance of his eyes and the swell in my throat told me it wasn't. I liked his voice like that, all I wanted to do was make him say my name with that hoarse sound. I walked into the little kitchen and grabbed a clear glass from the cold metal shelf. I almost slammed it down on the counter as I attempted to still my escaping heart.

I tried to breathe deeply but settled on splashing water in my face. I rubbed my eyes sheepishly and grabbed another glass. I filled them both up slowly, biding my time. About ten minutes after I filled them both I took a deep breath and walked back into his room. I clutched my glass tightly as I placed his on the dresser. I planned to hand it to him but he was pulling on a sharp white shirt, his pants had yet to be buttoned. He sat on the bed pushing up his glasses and holding his hand out for his drink. I handed him mine. He yawned loudly and fell back on the bed after taking a sip and placing the cup on the dark wooden end table.

I looked at his form. His eyes were closed gently, his lips shut and a little swollen from sleeping so hard. His shirt was still unbuttoned along with his black slacks. I felt my gaze wash over his exposed midriff, the expanse long. I turned towards the dresser and took a long drink when he wearily opened his eyes. “I should be getting back so I can change before my morning class” I said into the cup. He sat up at the statement, looking towards his alarm clock.

“Our class starts in fifteen minutes.” I almost choked on my water.

“Wait, what?”

“You won't have time to get home” he said firmly. “At least you still have your backpack.”

“Yeah” I said rubbing the back of my neck. I considered sitting down next to him but he stood up and walked over to his closet.

“You can wear something of mine” he said. I almost declined his offer but he pulled out a cool gray shirt and threw it at me. I stood there for a moment looking at him. “Don't worry I won't look” I could hear the eye roll. I was still apprehensive as I pulled off my shirt.

“I don't care, we're both guys” I was lying but I felt the need to defend myself. It must have sounded like a challenge because he turned around and threw a pair of jeans my way before I even had the shirt over my head. He buttoned and zipped up his pants before he sat back down and started to work on his shirt. His movements were still tired. My body felt flush as I let my pants drop and I moved my legs out of them. He turned my way to tell me something but upon seeing me in my boxer briefs he turned away and closed his mouth. I was glad when he didn't laugh at the batman symbol.

His pants where a little big on me and the legs were too long but I had my belt and I rolled the bottoms up a little. “Thanks” I looked away from him.

“Don't mention it.” he pulled on a pair of socks and I followed suit. A few moments later we were out the door on the way to class. On the way I bought us both a honey bun out of the vending machine and he looked at me for a second before accepting it.

I didn't fall asleep in his bed that night. I said something about writing an English paper and I left, promising to return his clothing washed and folded next week. He laughed at the statement but still looked disappointed as I walked towards the door. “Batman huh?” I stopped for a second in the doorway before pushing off. I wasn't sure if he was making fun of me or if it was his way of breaking the weird tension that had been building up that day. Whichever it was I got in my car smiling, cursing out loud about that nonexistent English paper.

I'd like to say the tension ended then, but it didn't. It wasn't on the surface but during the silence of reading chapters and typing on our laptops I could feel it building. Neither of us acknowledged it and maybe that's why it grew so much.

Even with this underlying tension our comfort still grew. I became more bold. I started bringing spare clothing in my backpack. When I brought him his shirt and pants neatly folded and clean he smiled slowly and chuckled, shaking his head. I was disappointed in the interaction. I had worn that shirt to bed a few times and I found that the smell of him enveloped me in the best way possible. I found it increasingly harder to sleep without at least his smell.

When thanksgiving break came I no longer had that reliable excuse to see him. I staid awake the first night of break tossing and turning. I knew I couldn't make it a week without seeing that man. I searched my brain again and again for a plan. I called him up that morning.

“What do you want?” I think I woke him.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“Oh it's you” his voice picked up a bit “of course not” he sounded jokingly sarcastic.

“”Sorry 'bout that” why did I sound so nervous? It's not like I was asking him out. “I was just wondering if you had any plans this break? I mean I’m sure you do but we have that test really soon after break is over, and I have like no clue how to do half the problems he assigned yesterday. I was just wondering if just possibly you had a break in your plans and maybe you could come over or something and study” I should have just slam my face into the fucking wall right then “feel free to say no, I just thought I’d ask” oh my god stop talking. Everything seemed to have come out in one breathe. Why am I so fucking awkward?

“I'm seeing my family for thanksgiving.”

“Oh okay” I almost hung up the phone then.

“But I’ll be getting back the day after, and your right I really need to study for that test.”

“Really” I sounded too excited.

“I'll stop by around six, I’ll bring a pizza.”

“Okay, sound good.” I waited for him to hang up first and it took him a moment to.

I spent thanksgiving skyping with my family as they ate a large feast. I'm not a bad cook so I won't complain about the food on my end, it's just that the pecan pie looked so good and it's my absolute favorite. I was asked twice by my parents why I seemed so distracted.

“Nothing” I said both times, “I’m just thinking about a test coming up.”

“You better be studying hard” I heard my dad say in the background.

“Trust me I am” my father looked at me skeptically “I am,” mom playfully punched him in the arm.

“Lay off him Rick.”

“Thanks mom” I said laughing a little.

“I love you son” dad said shoveling the pie into his mouth. I glared at him jokingly and mom punched him again.

“Love you too dad” I nodded at mom and cut off the Skype. I cleaned up the dishes and decided to hit the hay. I got very little sleep, my mind too buzzed in anticipation of the next day.

Six rolled around too quickly, my palms felt sweaty when I finally opened the door. “Long time no see.” He smiled at me rolling his eyes. I let him in and lead him to the living room. He placed his books on the coffee table next to mine. “I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place.”

“I have gps on my phone” he said before going quiet again. We both stared at the books before I grabbed mine as a ploy to break the nerves. He followed my lead and we opened them up to the chapter. I was lying before when I said I didn't understand much, the chapter was actually very easy. But I decided to play dumb and I asked him far too many questions. After awhile we took a break and consumed the pizza like ravenous wolfs, it felt like a ploy to stay silent. But soon the pizza was gone and I had run out of questions to ask him. The silence wore on but he refused to stand up and make an exit.

I could almost hear the clock ticking as the moon rose high up outside my window. I stood up suddenly when my heart started beating loudly into my ears. He watched me carefully as I picked up the empty pizza box. I walked quickly out the door to throw it away. When I walked through the door coming back he was standing in front of me. He leaned forward with an outstretched hand and closed the heavy white door. I fell back on it from the surprise and his hand was still touching the door. He stepped closer to me.

It felt like it was in slow motion. Like I was in a movie. I couldn't hear anything other than my heart beating faster than humanly possible. His lips tasted like tomato sauce. At first I was too shocked to move but once his tongue asked for entrance, which I granted, I wrapped my arms around him, my hand running through his dark black hair. He bit my lip gently before tracing his lips over my jaw. He nibbled my earlobe as he slipped his hands up my shirt, stroking my abdomen. He started sucking at my neck when I finally pushed him off.

He looked at me shocked, an apology forming at his lips. But I moved to his side and grabbed his arm almost roughly. I took him into my room and pushed him onto my bed. I climbed on top of him and pulled his shirt off of his body before moving my lips against his possessively. I traced my hands over his chest, then the expanse of his stomach until I reached the edge of his jeans. I lifted my face from his and noted his flushed skin and swollen lips. I grasped the belt as I lowered my lips, biting his left nipple gently.

I undid the belt buckle very quickly and sucked at his pelvic bone as I unfastened the button and pulled down his fly. I kissed down his happy trail as I pulled both his pants and boxers down roughly. When I finally got to his member he was already painfully hard. He sucked in a sharp breath when I tasted him. He grasped the sheets tightly as I experimented with how much of him I could fit into my mouth, before long his hand was in my hair holding me close to him. He made little strained sounds when I started to bob my head up and down. He groaned loudly when I took my mouth off of him with an audible pop.

I move back up him and he sat up shyly as I reached into my short dresser. I pulled out a small unopened box of rubbers and a sealed bottle of KY. I broke the seal before putting it back down on the dark brown wooden dresser. I stood up to take off my shirt and he tugged at my jeans until they fell down. He stared as I pulled down my Superman boxers. I didn't let myself succumb to the embarrassment and I sat down next to him. I slowly opened the box and handed him a rubber. I kissed him sweetly and pulled him on top of me.

“I've never done this before” I admitted to him shyly as I reached for the lube.

“Neither have I” he looked away from me as he struggled with his condom, his hand shaking slightly. I helped him and he moaned slightly from the contact. He took the bottle from me.

“You don't have to, I can” he shut me up with a kiss while he poured the liquid into his hand. He put it down and slowly moved a finger into my entrance. The feeling was uncomfortable at first, an intrusion of sorts, but after the scissoring he found my prostate and I let out a low moan, he bit his lip at the sound. He started to pump with three fingers, attempting to hit the same spot each time, I have to admit he got pretty good at it.

He looked nervous when I told him that I was ready, but he grabbed the bottle anyways and poured the room temperature liquid on his member. He slowly put the bottle back. “Are you sure?” he asked against my neck. All I could do was nod. The nod seemed to satisfy him and he slid into me hesitantly, pausing for a few moments to let me adjust. He pulled out slowly and came back in just as slowly. He acted as if I would break if he went too fast.

He watched me intently, a serious look on his face. When I started to moan his face lightened up significantly and he started to go deeper and faster. I bit my lip to keep from screaming when he finally hit my spot. He noticed and aimed there every thrust. I moved my hips to meet him, pulling his body to mine with my arms. He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder to allow better access and he hit my prostate with such intensity I couldn't hold back the throaty moan. I found it impossible to last much longer after that. I tried to hold back the orgasm but he started pumping me with every thrust until I came into his hand. He soon stumbled down the same hill.

He collapsed beside me and after I caught my breath I grabbed a damp wash cloth from the bathroom and cleaned us both up a bit. I pulled the blankets over our bodies and I fell asleep in his arms. He snored softly that night. His face looked so calm I couldn't imagine ever waking that angelic form. That morning I awoke to the smell of brewing coffee. I moved my arm in search of his body and when I came up empty I opened my eyes and found him standing in my doorway holding two coffee mugs. I smiled at him. He was wearing only his boxers, the rest of his clothing still strewn across the bedroom. He placed himself next to me and handed over the cup as I sat up.

I bit my lip before slowly taking a sip. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to say, he didn't seem sure either. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable, in fact a lot of the tension had completely dissipated. I felt the most relaxed I had felt since the day I met him.

“So Superman huh?” I couldn't stop laughing. My heart felt so full, like it was about to burst. I kissed him slowly on the mouth, his eyes widened slightly in surprise and I took advantage and stuck my tongue in. I don't think I would ever get tired of kissing that man.

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